Mom

It was Mother's Day yesterday in Poland.

It's the fourth one without Mom. I can't even express how I miss her. I look at her picture every day and I miss her every day: sometimes more, sometimes less but the feeling is there. She is being missed. 

I'm thinking sometimes that she didn't give us a chance. But then, I would never in the world have accepted what was going on at home. 

Still, that she chose to end her life is painful. 

 I still remember her smell, I remember her voice. I remember how she lit and held a cigarette. I remember everything. I remember how she laughed and I remember how she cried. Her tears are engraved on my heart. I remember how she danced and how she loved music - the louder, the better. I remember how she loved cinema. I remember how she loved. 

She loved life. She wanted to live but she didn't know how any more. It was too much. I know it was too much.

Mom, I hope that you're watching us, me and Helena and that you are proud of us. Watch over us. We love you.